


through dying embers

by divinegods



Category: The Poppy War - R. F. Kuang
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Just a maybe. what if Rin dies in Nezha’s arms, Nezha reminisces, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29512596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinegods/pseuds/divinegods
Summary: He would have let her eat him whole.He would have chosen her, in a hundred lifetimes, in worlds across dimensions, in any version of reality, he knew it would always be just her. Fang Runin. He’d find her; he chose her.
Relationships: Fang Runin/Yin Nezha
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	through dying embers

**Author's Note:**

> tpw spoilers please take note! dedicated to REEN for being my biggest supporter and enduring all my questions ilysm please enjoy reading again, flo, erin, gabby <3 enjoy!

_If nothing saves us from death, may love save us from life._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

His kiss won’t change anything. Nothing else matters. It has never mattered. 

He had only ever seen her face, confident sharp angles, heard her cynical laughs, quick and ripped out like a bandaid. He remembers her stance as she always had gone, proud and cold, a warrior from her deepest bones, born and bred and made to be a machine.

“Look at me, please Rin.” He grasped her face in his palms, breathing fast. “Please look at me, and be okay. Rin. Fang Runin, please.”

He remembered infuriated glares of a child, a rage that thrummed, yet felt so wrong in two bodies so young. He remembered full blown anger, and it wasn’t the petty fights they had back when they were foolish kids, this was all-powerful, a sweeping force he was terrified would take over her whole. And it did. It tided over her, the Phoenix made her mad, brought upon a nightmare neverending that only ever ended in pain and the slow process that broke her fully. He saw furious bloodshed, bodies stacked on each other like they were legos, red and black charred corpses tumbling across cities, and her standing in the midst of it all, a serene smile on her face. As if she could pretend she wasn’t mad, as if smiling would mask the Phoenix away, would keep it under chains, away from her soul. The Cike were all like that, and he saw it through her now. She did not have control of her mind. She’d lost it when she pledged Lore. He wanted to hold her then. She used to be so frail the first time he saw her back at Sinegard, and she was once again frail now, warmth seeping out of her as oil does a broken machine. He wanted to hold her again.

The day he thought he’d lost her, back when the gas ruined half his face, he had believed he would never see her again. He had lain, the pain from his face making him shriek, but more than that, he had to see her  _ alive.  _ He shouted and writhed on the floor, spat on the soldiers keeping him hostage. They beat him up, and he had been laughing, for the pain at least distracted him from the rage and inner turmoil he was going through. He had to see her again.

And he had.

So imagine the relief when he saw she was  _ alive, _ and more than that, she was okay. More okay than she had been when they had last separated. Then the withdrawals took over, and she shook and suffered. He wished he could take it away from her. He would have held her hand, taken it away, he would have given his heart, as evidence of a love that transcends all else. But she suffered alone, for she was not used to being loved. So when she was better, he pulled her towards him, the man with a scar on his face, and she caressed it, fire burning bright under tender fingertips.

He would have let her eat him whole.

He would have chosen her, in a hundred lifetimes, in worlds across dimensions, in any version of reality, he knew it would always be just  _ her.  _ Fang Runin. He’d find her; he chose her.

He held her close to him, and cried. Simple as that. Wept over her broken body. “Are you alright?” he had asked minutes before he saw a burst of poppies grow and fester over her chest, over her legs. It bloomed so quickly, and he recalled screaming his voice hoarse, screaming for a medic,  _ anyone, are you there. _ Over and over, he yelled and he shook, harsh cries wracking through his now grown body. He was big now, skin corded with sinewy muscle, and he wrapped his body around her, as if to shield her from oncoming attacks. Arrows flew in overhead, and he struggled to pull her up, carried her body across the battlefield and back to the ship, heaving. What was the point of running away, protecting her when she was all but gone? 

Nezha knew then he had lost her forever.

No, he wouldn’t accept that. She was stupid and reckless, and he had been infected by her as well. He would not let her die now, for being reckless, and dumb, and always jumping in without thinking.

He remembered hating her, this stupid girl who humiliated him, made him look like a useless son of the Dragon Warlord, and he had lain awake at night hating, and hating, and spent weeks, months, building up hate. They both had dedicated so much time, blades and words scratched onto their throats. Now she was all but the home they had built together, with Kitay, with Venka, all the others.

He heard his Father from a shell of indifference, he heard him yell at him to  _ drop it, child. It’s gone, stop fighting.  _ He had gone back to rake a shaking hand at his Father’s arms, gloating at the red that flowed out. His eyes ached from the weight of unshed tears now, he couldn’t keep crying as medics went over her body, and it felt like a buzz all around. He could hardly hear a thing, until the medic tapped him on the shoulder, and she had a grimace. He heard a low  _ i’m sorry there’s nothing else that could be done. she’s gone.  _ He left the room, ran to the railing and found he could no longer cry or scream. He gripped the metal railings hard, feeling the wounds on his palms come to life again, red and flickering. Just like her fire. It enclosed around his heart, and he felt it drop to his stomach. He hurled. It felt better than the reality at least.

They both had dedicated so much time, hurricanes and typhoons of words scratched onto the walls of their throats. No one has heard it, but now it would be made known. If nothing else could save them from death, then so be it. He remembered promising just hours ago, “We’ll make it. I promise it to you. This war will last months at most, and tomorrow, and everyday after that, I will be with you. Do not be afraid, for if it be possible I am everyday more and more yours.”

He sunk onto the ship’s floorboards and Rin’s earlier words floated to his mind. “Through you I rise, Yin Nezha, and you through me, into the fire we make, but may not keep.”

“I will find you once again, Fang Runin.  If nothing saves us from death, may love save us from life.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! kudos shares and comments are appreciated :)


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